


Experimental

by scrub456



Series: Inksolation [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Art and Fic, Caring Sherlock Holmes, Comfort, Fanart, Fluff, Influenza, Inksolation, M/M, Quarantine, Sick John Watson, Sickfic, Soup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:42:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23868457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrub456/pseuds/scrub456
Summary: John has been sick. Sherlock has been making soups.Inksolation Day 26: Experimental
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Inksolation [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706410
Comments: 20
Kudos: 80
Collections: Isolated Johnlock Collection, Quarantine





	Experimental

"It's… Hmm." John took another spoonful of the soup. "It… It's good. Yeah." He pursed his lips, then immediately cleared his throat with a wince. He stirred the bowl of soup and held up another spoonful. 

"You hate it." Sherlock's shoulders drooped.

"No. _No._ I did not say that. It… It's just…" John scrunched his face and took another bite. "Mmm."

"Do not humor me, John Watson." Sherlock tried to take the bowl from him, but John leaned away.

"I'm not. It's creamy and rich. And… and green." Holding the spoon up, John let the soup drip back into the bowl.

"Green." Sherlock cocked an eyebrow.

"Very." He took another small slurp and nodded. "Yep. Green."

"Green is a color. It's not an adjective associated with taste." Sherlock pulled his knees up to his chest and sighed.

"Ah, no. No, I think if green were a flavor, this would be it." Swirling the spoon through the cooling soup, John sniffed and forced a smile. "I don't _hate_ it..."

"You're a terrible liar." Sherlock did manage to get the bowl away from John then.

John slumped back against his pillows. "I'm sure the soup is just fine, Sherlock."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence." Sherlock scooted toward the edge of the bed, stirred the soup and sniffed it. He considered taking a bite, sniffed it again, and frowned.

"Just stop, Sherlock." John laughed, which turned into a cough. Sherlock set the bowl on the side table and handed John a glass of water. 

After a few moments, and Sherlock rubbing his back soothingly, John caught his breath and leaned back again. "Sorry."

Sherlock took the glass and set it aside, then pulled a blanket from under them. "John, you're recovering. You don't…" 

"You worked so hard on that soup. _All_ those delicious, experimental soups." He took Sherlock's hand and chuckled. "I've loved them all, but… Well… I hate asparagus. Just have never liked it."

"I've seen you eat asparagus!" Sherlock pulled his hand away and crossed his arms over his chest.

"No. No, you've seen me eat around asparagus, and then dragged me away from the table for whatever mad chase we were on at the time." John shrugged and offered a small smile.

Sherlock closed his eyes and thought back over every instance he could recall. "Damn." He shook his head. "There's always something." He quirked a small grin of his own.

"I'm sure, though, if I liked asparagus, the soup would be very tasty." John bumped his shoulder against Sherlock's.

"Well, this one can be served both warm and cold. Maybe if we let it sit for a while." Sherlock leaned back next to John.

"I think that is only likely to increase the inherent… _greenness_ of it." John shuddered.

"You still need to eat something." Sherlock turned his face toward John. "You're recovering. You have to keep your strength up. I can reheat some of last night's stew. Or I could make…"

"How about tea and toast?" John rolled onto his side and took Sherlock's hand. 

"John, that's…"

"I'm more tired than hungry. And you need a break from looking after me. Toast is easy." John kissed his knuckles.

"I want to look after you." Sherlock pouted. "I love you. I _want_ to do it."

"I know. I know you do." John closed his eyes and pulled up the blanket. "And I love you all the more for it. But you don't have to…"

"I _want_ to." Sherlock ran his fingers through John's hair and kissed his brow, relieved the fever never did come back.

"I know." He opened tired eyes and peered up at Sherlock. "Could toast with jam count as you taking care? And then maybe a nap?"

Sherlock pretended to consider the request. "I believe that can be managed. Do you want the cherry preserves, or raspberry?"

"Mmm, cherry I think." John yawned. "And honey for the tea?"

"Of course. Rest for a bit. I'll be right back." Sherlock tucked the blanket more securely around John's shoulders and fluffed the pillows. "Maybe I'll save the soup for when you're well again. It would make an excellent base for a mould experiment."

John groaned and pulled the blankets over his head. "Just don't tell me about it, yeah?"

"Excellent." Sherlock placed a kiss on the tuft of John's hair sticking out from the blankets, scooped up the soup bowl, and swooped out of the bedroom to make tea and toast.


End file.
